


Whiskey Burn

by tabaqui



Series: Obsession [5]
Category: Angel: the Series RPF, Leverage RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Other, RPF, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 21:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabaqui/pseuds/tabaqui





	Whiskey Burn

Whiskey Burn  


"You want another shot?" Aldis asked, and Jensen hesitated. "Something wrong?"  


"Man, I dunno." Jensen looked around the bar again, searching, and _not_ finding that guy. The guy Christian had pointed out a couple months ago; the guy like a junk-yard dog, all glittering, fevered eyes and gleaming teeth, something entirely too predatory in his fake-casual sprawls. In the way his gaze tracked Chris.  


Hungry. Obsessive.  


It creeped Chris out, and once Jensen saw it, it really got to him, too. He'd told Chris he ought'a go to the cops, tell somebody. _'Just leave a paper trail, man. That's all.'_ But he'd been reluctant - mostly, Jensen guessed, trying not to give it weight, make it _real_.  


Jensen lifted two fingers and Aldis poured out a shot and slid it across the damp, scarred bar-top, his dark eyes scanning the crowd.  


"Worried about that guy?" he asked, and Jensen nodded, lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it up, bolting the shot like his daddy'd showed him. The whiskey went down like fire and smoke, and Jensen sighed out a long breath.  


"Yeah. He's always just _around_ , you know? But tonight - he kinda vanished. And Chris thought...thought maybe he'd been to his house or something, said he was feelin' kinda jumpy but...tryin' to just ignore it…."  


Jensen tapped the shot glass on the bar and then shoved it away, stood up and then stood _still_ for just a moment, little dizzy dip and sway of the room making him clutch at the bar's edge. _Fuck_.  


"I think-"  


"I think you an' Jared should get your asses out to Christian's house," Aldis said, lifting up a hand and waving a bar rag. He pulled his phone out of his hip pocket. "I'm callin' the cops. Either way, they need to know, if the guy's out there or not. Right?"  


"Yeah, you're right. Fuck. _Fuck_." Jensen rubbed his hand over his face, trying to ignore the burn that was mellowing into a comfortable smoulder in his belly.  


"Here." Aldis reached down and came up with a bottle of water, shoving it at Jensen as Jared came up to the bar, looking sweaty and anxious. "Yeah. Police, I need the police," Aldis said into his phone. "You guys get moving."  


"That guy?" Jared said, and Jensen nodded, then dug for his keys and tossed them at Jared before cracking open the water bottle and taking a long slug.  


"Yeah. Got a bad fucking feeling, man. Let's get going."  


"Hey!" Aldis called, and Jensen and Jared both turned, looking "He might be armed. You be damn careful."  


"We might be, too," Jensen said with a half-grin, thinking of the shotgun sitting in its rack in the back window of his truck, of the Louisville Slugger under the seat. He and Jared turned away as Aldis started talking to the cops, or at least 911, both striding on long legs out of the bar.  


He hoped like hell they were wrong, it was nothing, they weren't too late. But the sick feeling in his gut said otherwise.


End file.
